The stare.

Annabelle is mastering a new look. It is one of extreme concentration and judgment. You would think she had started to read the old testament or something by the way she can stare down the most innocent looking person.

Two days ago I took Annabelle to the mall so that I could get out of the heat and simultaneously let her run around in a protected environment. (As guilty as I feel about it, I have to admit that I have found shopping malls to be the best substitutions for playgrounds whenever I need an "easy" day.)

So, on Tuesday I had started to wrap up our playdate with mall folk and began the familiar chanting of "This way, Annabelle!" and "C'mon! Where's the car?!" to try and get her to hurry. Or at least walk in the right direction. I turned around to see her standing about ten feet in front of two teenagers seating on a bench. These kids were dressed entirely in black, wearing some studded belt jewelry around their arms, pierced all over their faces, and had hair arranged in a complex design of spikes. They were doing a decent job at being goth.

And they were squirming under the stare of my 16 month daughter. She was giving them her best-ever stare. I enjoyed it for about thirty seconds. And then I started to call to her, but she was completely entranced with them. So, being sick and tired, I sat down on a bench and watched her watching them while I blew my nose.

She watched them for TEN MINUTES. She stood there, silent and utterly still. With the stare. It was a very long time. The goth kids laughed, acted embarrassed, motioned to her, looked around for her mom (I waved), and basically freaked out. It was very entertaining.

Eventually she looked around for me and toddled over. In a weird way, I was very proud of her.

Travel Log: Our trip to the Bay Area

Screw the fork!

We stayed with Dave's parents. Fortunately for Annabelle they had just purchased a new refrigerator and saved the box. It was a favorite of the trip.

The best thing about visiting the San Francisco Bay Area is getting to see old friends. My best friend Kristy came over for an afternoon and we hung out in the backyard with Annabelle.

Grampa Frank and Grama Shirley gave Annabelle this monster truck- she loved it. When I dressed her in this little outfit I was reminded of my favorite blogging baby, Juniper.

My dear friend Gina came to visit one evening. We had a blast. I don't know how to explain it, but this picture is just so her. (I straightened my hair for a wedding earlier that day and couldn't believe how long it was.)

A great picture of my mother-in-law, Grama Shirley, at the wedding.

A small plastic bowl of water, two unripe cherry tomatoes picked from the backyard garden, and one paint brush went a LOOOONG way in terms of toddler entertainment.

She's a screamer!

Doing her thing at a wedding last Saturday.

Today I met an old friend at the mall. This mall happened to be rather new, with an enclosed playground for young children. We took our kids there to munch on our salads and chat. In between conversations I was pondering the joy of the carpeted playground (thankful that I didn't have to contend with loads of sand in Annabelle's shoes) and noticed how quiet the 20+ children playing around me happened to be. The kids and moms were talking, but there wasn't any yelling/shouting/scolding. Well, except for one unruly child off in the corner who kept screaming.

Yes, that would be my child.

Everyone's playground experience was being punctuated by shrill screams every minute or so. And sometimes more frequently.

And unless you actually saw her screaming, you would never imagine that it was my girl. She was the one toddling around in the cute brown dress with a smile plastered on her face. The screams were those of pure joy. I'm guessing she just was so excited that the happiness was overwhelming her little soul and she just had to let it out in repetitive bursts.

At one point I looked to my friend and said, "You hear that one little child who keeps screaming over and over?"

She said, "Yes!", smiling in wonderment.

"That's Annabelle." I replied.

"REALLY??" she answered in (more) wonderment.

It really was pretty impressive, all that screaming. It was quite loud. I think I was the only one laughing about it. Maybe I'm finally used to how loud she is... and that's definitely taken me some time to get used to. But I have just started noticing how other people jump to attention at her screams and screaming-type laughter and realized that used to be me who would startle and get whatever she was asking for. Finally, finally, my nerves have relaxed and I can enjoy her screams as much as she does.

We're home. We're exhausted.

Annabelle has begun to mimic facial expressions. Her favorites are the most serious, most scowl-like, most un-approving-looking expressions she can muster. But each is always followed by a sweet smile, letting us know that she is either joking or proud of herself or both.

We had the best time visiting Dave's parents. A little shopping, getting my hair done at a salon, a wedding, a wedding shower, several visits with friends, a couple plane rides, Annabelle's joke making and loud laughing, and beautiful weather made for a perfect five days in the Bay Area.

Coming home was okay. It really has been so nice to be somewhere where I didn't have to worry about vacuuming or cleaning the windows. Our place is really becoming a wreck these days.

And in our absence some ants moved in. Not good. Not good. I have the creepy crawlies.

More pictures to come. But for now, sleep.

Travel Journal

We have all returned from a fabulous trip up the Central Coast of California. It was awesome. It was beautiful. It was the perfect break. It was too short!

Annabelle was a super trooper. Dave and I could hardly believe how well she did for the entire duration of the holiday. She slept the same, ate the same, enjoyed the car rides, enjoyed her new toys, had fun wandering around new places... it was a relief and we all returned home feeling happy and rested.

And now we are leaving again- this time to San Francisco for a visit with family, a friend's wedding, and Dave's sister's wedding shower. I'll be gone until next Tuesday. But before I go, here are some pictures of our adventure along the coast.

We stopped for a short rest on our second day. Dave napped under a tree while I did a photo shoot with Annabelle up against the corrugated metal wall of an antique shop adjacent to the park. This is a picture of the exact moment that Annabelle noticed the shutter snapping inside the lens of my camera.

And here she begins to find the shutter amusing...

Nursing on the road!

Annabelle now knows about twenty baby signs. It is truly an amazing thing to watch her grasp the concept of a new sign and begin to use it! Here she demonstrates "Hat" while hanging out in the little town of Cambria.

Saying "Frog" is her all time favorite sign, hands down.

"Apple" has been really helpful.

Her learning "Pig" was a surprise to me. I had been trying to teach it to her the longest time- over a month. (She has learned some signs in less than a minute.) And then, after playing with a piggy bank at grama's house she came home signing "Pig" over and over...

Passing through Santa Maria we were starving and desperate for a place to eat. We ended up at this dive burger joint named Jim's. It was the best burger I've had in a LONG time...

Annabelle is just barely starting to use the crayons for coloring more than eating them... Dave and I have always loved searching out the crappiest looking diners for breakfast. We swear they have the best food and the best people. This one in San Luis Obispo wasn't as run down as it had seemed from the outside, though still delicious and fun.

Our visit to Morro Bay was a little bit colder than I had planned so I ended up buying a new hat and denim jacket. Here in SLO I'm happily modeling both for the camera. As it turned out I had braided my pigtails the day we were to arrive in Solvang. I had no idea that the whole town of Solvang had this Danish theme going on... it was like walking into another country. Several of the store clerks and waitresses were dressed in costumes to look like they were from Denmark. So when I was wandering around in my skirt and pigtails several people asked me where I worked and if I had just moved to town. (Because obviously no tourist would ever dream of dressing up the way they were forced to daily!)

Annabelle has healthy love for slides. She needs help getting going and help landing at the end, but loves them all the same.

BTW - Spellcheck isn't working on blogger, sorry if you caught any typos!

Gone till next Tuesday...

Tomorrow the whole family is leaving town for a drive along the coast. I could get caught up in wondering how Annabelle is going to handle it, but I'm not letting myself think too much about it. Dave and I are desperate for a change of scenery so we're just going. See you later!

Pool time with daddy!

Kick! Kick! Kick!

I'm not a lady!

My previous posts about being angry were, apparently, upsetting to some. (I received negative feedback from about four different people.) I have really thought about my outbursts and talked through the experience with a couple of my closest friends and have a lot of feelings in response to those who were made uncomfortable by my feelings.

Getting crazy angry is a sign of the need to change. And when you feel stuck in your life and unable to conjure the energy/motivation to create that change, anger gets you unstuck and moving on it. Anger is an authentic feeling. This feeling has been pushed down, pushed around, hidden, masked, betrayed, ignored, and denied. Women are especially adept at keeping displays of anger buried. This, I believe, is a fault. A fault that I have!!

It is possible to really appreciate one's own anger. I wouldn't have believed this before last night, before my dearest friend Kristy simply explained my angry emotional outburst as a turning point. She said that in a month or two I will be able to look back and pinpoint that day as the day change started happening. It was, from her point of view, the moment I realized that *I* need to be a priority too. From my perspective I can definitely say that it was the point at which I could admit my need for help and also absorb the idea of putting Annabelle in some sort of daycare without feeling crushing guilt. For that I am grateful and could have probably stood to punch the microwave a couple more times.

Honestly, I don't know why anger is supposed to be so embarrassing. Are people so repressed that they can't admit when something pisses them off? Do people endure their whole lives without ever feeling uncontrollable anger? Are those people in denial or leading very shallow lives? Feel free to enlighten me.

Dave and I have a little inside joke between us. It's a joke that's not a joke. When we had just barely started dating he called me a lady. I was quick to correct him: No! I am NOT a lady. We laughed, because the implication of what it means to be unlady like is actually pretty funny and wide-ranging. (The term "un-ladylike behavior" could be used to describe an adolescent girl wearing pants and a boy's shirt as equally as it could be used to describe a bawdy sort of call girl.) To me, a lady is a woman who is demure, who follows the rules (and The Rules!), who doesn't speak her mind, who never expresses anger, and who worries more about social decorum than self-actualization and authenticity. I, most certainly, am not a lady. And when we are out in the world people inevitably refer to me as a lady. When that person get out of ear shot Dave happily proclaims, "Oh! You're no lady!" We laugh. He gets me. He likes the joke. And it's a compliment.

Certainly every generation before mine believes, more or less, that being a lady is good. I can't fault them. Ladies serve a purpose out in society. Ladies make for some very excellent reading material. And I don't think I'm in great company with my thoughts on the anger subject or the lady subject, but I don't care. You may be reading thinking that you've always identified as a lady. Great. You might also be taking offense to my opinion. Not great. I don't mean to upset anyone, this is simply my opinion. If you agree or disagree leave a comment.

I'm not writing this post to make people happy, just to offer a little more perspective to the criticism I received. It's just my blog. A space to purge thoughts. A MUCH NEEDED outlet. A lot of my readers and my favorite bloggers are becoming my friends and have offered perspectives that have changed me as a person. Here in Orange County I feel lonely. Here in the blogsphere I have a community of parents that buoys me up when I'm drowning.

What is happening to me?

Yesterday morning I freaked out. I was very hungry. I was angry at someone who was TWO hours late arriving at our apartment. (They never called and we were waiting to have breakfast until after their arrival.) I was frustrated that my day was already planned with chores and seemingly little fun time with my family.

I cracked. I became someone I've never seen before... a sobbing, screaming, angry woman. A woman who felt so entirely pent up with no outlet for her frustrations that she was clenching her hands and body. A woman who, in trying to explain herself to her confused (and probably scared) husband using lots of swear words and exclamations proceeded to punch the microwave with her right fist. Hard. Hard enough to bruise her hand and make a couple knuckles sore. Hard enough to make her husband restrain her, wondering if we were going to have to replace the microwave.

I really have no idea where all this anger is coming from. I am not an angry person! Happy!!! I am a happy person who uses too many exclamation marks in emails!! I am a woman who gets compliments from people saying, "Gosh! You are always smiling!" People have described me as having a "sunny personality" and wish they could match my optimism. Diplomacy and positivity are some of my key elements as a person.

WHAT IS MY DEAL??

One of my loyal readers suggested in an email that I might be depressed. Perhaps. But doesn't that come with hopelessness? Lack of motivation? I don't feel those things. I am familiar with depression and have never seen it manifest this way in me. (I'm not ruling it out, just talking out loud.)

Dave decided that we are going to take a road trip and get out of town for a few days. We're going up the coast. Only fun days allowed. Fun day followed by fun day times five. No chores. Lots of stops to explore. He bought me a book by the Lonely Planet, "Coastal California" to help me get started on getting together our itinerary. In the section about our state's culture and lifestyle there was this exert:

People are pleasant- sometimes to a fault. In fact, in polite society everyone is so determined to get along that it can be hard to find out what somebody really thinks. This increases the further south you go. Political correctness thrives along the coast. Sometimes it's annoying. If you stick around one of the larger metropolitan areas for a while, you'll inevitably exchange telephone numbers with a person who expresses interest in seeing you again. In most parts of the world that means, "call me". Not in California. It's just a nicety. Often the other person never calls, and if you make an attempt you may never hear back.

This all flies out the window on an extended middle finger on the state's always busy freeways. Road rage has become a serious problem... ...Expect to encounter self righteous, irrational, angry people who won't hesitate to cut you off, then flip you off.

After reading that I realized I had made so many mistakes: expecting return phone calls from the 12-15 women that have given me their phone number over the course of the last year, thinking that people only flip you off when you've done something wrong, believing that a smile is a smile. Essentially, people are SO much more shallow that I had initially thought.

I have never been very good at two things: Not taking things personally, and letting things slide off my back. If I could manage to learn how to do either (or both) my time in Orange County would greatly improve. Obviously.

When I read the passage to Dave he observed that both he and I have become MUCH more aggressive drivers than we ever had been previously. We have also developed more self-righteousness than either of us feels comfortable with. We each have an edge to our personalities that wasn't there two years ago. Sigh. What happened to our low-key, laid back hippy selves? We learned so much about how we wanted to live our lives during our two years in Arcata. It didn't seem possible that all of that could be undone in such a short time. We knew in advance that we would have to shelter each other here, that we would be without the huge community we enjoyed in Humboldt County, that we would have to fend off the contagiousness of consumerism. We weren't quite expecting the onslaught of loneliness or the need to compromise just to survive.

Today we went to Seal Beach to walk around. It is probably one of the most liberal parts of Orange County. It was fun. There was definitely a different feeling there that I haven't felt throughout the county. It was a tad bit more relaxed. Some people drove cars that were more than five years old. We saw a couple bare chested men with beards grown out grey past their shoulders. It was such a nice day. A much needed nice day. We plan to go back...

Goat's Milk as an alternative to Cow's Milk

Experimenting with the timer...

Today Annabelle hardly ate a thing. Barely nursed. Refused even her favorite snacks. Is she teething? I have no idea. Is she getting skinny? Certainly. Do we need to get her to eat more? Absolutely. I have attempted to give her a little goat's cheese, hoping to slip right by that dairy allergy and see if goat/sheep's milk will do her better. True to form, she spit it out. She pretty much spits everything out that's not some kind of rice product or made up entirely of avocados or cucumbers.

You might be a little familiar with the trials we have gone through with Annabelle and what it has taken to figure out her allergies and avoid her consumption of these allergenic foods. (A brief reminder of what she is allergic to: wheat, dairy, oat, soy, oranges, papaya, nuts) And because I'm breastfeeding and hope to eliminate her exposure to these allergens, I have had to eliminate these foods from my diet as well.

So you might be wondering why I chose Goat's Cheese to try out first. Well, simply because I'm craving cheese like you wouldn't believe. So I ran a little pretest and ate some goat cheese. It went okay. So I ate some more! And THAT went okay!! MORE!!! OKAY!!! YEEESSS!!!!! Thus, it's now Annabelle's turn to try it.

Next I'd like to try out goat's milk. They sell it here fresh right next to the cow's milk in the refrigerator. Does anyone know about contraindications regarding feeding goat's milk to a 15 month old?? There doesn't seem to be much online. Our pediatrician recommended it, but I just want a little confirmation before forging ahead. If it works out for us, then it might be just the ticket I need to begin to gently wean her down to just a couple feedings a day. THAT would be heaven. (Until Annabelle can have dairy I have to breastfeed her to make sure she's getting the iron and calcium she requires for healthy growth.)

Also, to update you about her constipation problems: I think we solved her constipation issues through the magic of chiropractic care. I mentioned Annabelle's problem to her chiro and he said, "Oh! Let's just adjust her here and see what happens." She pooped a giant diaper before we even left the office. And for the rest of the day it just kept coming. Ever since that day she's been a pretty regular girl. Magic, I tell you.